Silver Thorns
by Unseen Pirahnas
Summary: What if you lose your way, what if you stray from your destined path so far there is no turning back? What if you somehow end up falling in love with the very thing you most despise? What if you no longer want to save anyone? Slash; Harry x Draco


**AN:** This is a prologue to get us all in the mood for our very own, very first Harry/Draco fic. Don't be too hard on us – we're making our first steps out of original and into canon. We're two and we've divided the characters between each other so if you notice a drastic change between POV that is why. We did try to cover it up however.

The action will take place from Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts onwards. We've tried to stay as true to the book as possible, however, we might be taking the characters a bit ooc which might grow as we develop them to fit our ideas. The prologue gives a taste of what is to come at a later point.

**Warning:** This is a **slash** fic, meaning there will be a **gay couple** – Harry and Draco. It is also with high rating, thus you can expect **mature and graphic content** (right from the very prologue actually). If you have a problem with that, then this fic is not for you. Just do both us and yourself a favor and don't read it. And as a last warning – Flamers WILL be burned at the stake … and only after being tortured horribly. Dark, evil Harry Potter … eventually.

**Disclaimer:** We do not own anything. The universe and the characters belong to the wonderful JKR who brought them to us. Quote by Jack London.

**Prologue: Wild Is The Wind**

"I would rather be ashes than dust!  
I would rather that my spark burn out  
in a brilliant blaze than it be stifled by dry-rot.  
I would rather be a superb meteor,  
every atom of me in magnificent glow,  
than a sleepy and permanent planet."

Soft vapors abandoned his lips only to rise and dissipate moments later into the darkness above - as if they never existed, as if they were nothing at all.

Breath - such a fleeting, fragile thing. Unperceived until cold enough for it to be seen; unfelt until bouncing off of someone else's skin, carrying their fragrance back into your senses; unnoticed until needed most, until you were deprived of it; unappreciated until it was your last…

Harry played with the white steam for a few moments, watching it mold and shift around his fingers, watching it fade into nothingness, doing his best to ignore the cold that was threatening to take hold of his body. He felt close to shivering and so, he willed himself not to do it, as if the victory of an important battle depended on it. Well, if he was to be completely honest, it did and it was, for he would be damned if Malfoy would ever see him shiver, no matter how bloody cold.

The young boy frowned slightly, noticing an open window somewhere in the back of the classroom – of course, that would explain the cold. He moved to close it, his eyes, well accustomed to the lack of light at this point, easily allowing him to traverse the old classroom, without causing too big of a ruckus.

Harry cringed – the closing sound too loud in the surrounding silence, loud enough to almost make him miss the approaching steps. He recognized the sound, it had become unmistakable – the way he carried himself, the way his steps fell, secure and sure, confident and smug, if someone's walking could even be classified as smug. Over time, he had learned to tell it apart, even from a crowd, he had come to know it, expect it.

"I hope you have a damn good reason for tonight, Malfoy.", he added in a cold, sharp voice once he heard the steps pull to a stop, putting as much disgust and disdain behind the other boy's name as he could muster. "I have things to do, you know, places to be, people to speak with, other much more pleasant and important activities than meeting with you," he finished in the same manner, still refusing to turn and physically acknowledge the boy, opting for looking out the window instead, or at least pretending to…

At the cold welcome the newcomer just rose an eyebrow, fully aware the gesture would be left unnoticed and unappreciated. "Is that so," Draco sneered and moved towards a nearby wall. "Well, in that case, I should ask forgiveness for interrupting the busy schedule that our Savior seems to have." The sarcasm in his voice was clearly noticeable for his companion's benefit. The Malfoy heir leaned against the cold stone, slightly pulling at the hems of his robes, making sure they stayed around his shoulders. The Dungeons were as cold as usual and he was sure that one of Dumbledore's very, many secret agendas was to freeze the Slytherins to death, instead of renewing the heating charms in the lower part of the castle.

"I shall make a note to check with one of your assistants and schedule our next meeting at a time that would be convenient for the Boy-Wonder. Keeping up with your tight calendar is one of my main priorities after all." Draco was in a bad mood and did not feel the need to hide it. He had expected Potter to contact him immediately after the unexpected meeting he had had with Dumbledore. Any such rendezvous were not part of his plan. And anything outside of his elaborate schemes for Harry was quick to render his temper sour and his words biting.

The fact that the imbecile Gryffindor had waited for him to demand that this little get together happened was only making things worse. "Since pleasantries have never been part of your extensive and constantly increasing repertoire, let us get to the point. You shall be back to your hero-duties very soon. Your report. On your meeting with Dumbledore." It was a clear order and satisfied with himself Draco crossed his arms over his chest, fingers of the right one tapping impatiently on the side of the other.

"My report?" Harry asked rhetorically, his entire posture stiffening and tensing at the other's commanding tone. Oh, how he despised the all too full of himself Slytherin. "I do not report anything to you little snake …" he continued in a sharp fashion, at long last turning around to face the blond annoyance, his hands already tightly fisted by his sides, tension steadily building between his shoulders.

"I tell you things … sometimes, if I am in the mood for dealing with you and if I believe it is something you need to be aware of; little things, unimportant things … things of no real consequence. That is what this is …" Harry said, making a short gesture with his hand, moving it back and forth in between himself and Draco, as to better portray his point. A small sweet smile graced his lips, all the while his eyes continued to heatedly glare at the other boy.

With each word leaving the Gryffindor's mouth Draco's posture became tenser. The finger's tapping impatiently on his arm were currently clenching the fabric of his robe. His lips were so tightly pressed together that they resembled a thin line. The grey of his eyes was colder than usual and his glare was fixed on the raven-head, as if trying to drill a hole through the thick skull.

"… do not mistake our relationship for anything more, Malfoy. If I want to tell you something, I will, if I don't, then … I don't. I do not answer to you, little snake. You need to get that through your blond hair, thick skull and into your brain, for your sake, not mine", Harry continued speaking as he slowly progressed towards Draco. The anger he was feeling served to make his walk straighter, stiffer and much heavier than it would normally be, as if he didn't quite fit in his own skin anymore.

The Gryffindor chose to stop somewhere around the middle, still on neutral ground, before rigidly leaning against an old writing desk.

Such a fool Potter was in Draco's eyes. He had known that from the moment he started everything, yet the development he had witnessed had given the blond hope that the piece he had chosen for his knight would play obediently and jump into motion when his hand moved it. Obedience however, was not a strong trait of the Boy-Who-Lived's character, and neither was intelligence. After all of the effort Malfoy had invested in him throughout last year it seemed Harry was just as stubborn, gullible and ungrateful as he had been in the beginning of this experiment. Potter carried on.

"As for how the meeting went … well, it went as it was expected – nothing more, nothing less... Dumbledore was being Dumbledore, and I was being myself." Harry chuckled before continuing in an amused fashion, "Not that you needed to know that, but I do feel strangely indulgent tonight, so there you go, now you know – shoo and weave your little schemes, plan your secret plots … It's not like you will ever actually DO anything now, is it? You don't have the power or the courage to pull it off on your own – you need me Draco, not the other way around. At best I might find you useful, at times, rare as they might be. So I would advise more caution on your part for as much as I am immune to your pettiness and venom by now, it does tend to get tiring at times … And now, if we are done…" the boy said and moved as if to leave the cold classroom.

Draco pushed himself away from the wall and glided up to the Gryffindor effectively stopping him from turning towards the door. His eyes focused for a second on an invisible fleck of dust on the hem of the other's robes and, perfectly aware of the fact he was invading Harry's personal space, he lifted a hand to brush it off. After one brisk movement he was satisfied and lifted his gaze to meet the Gryffindor's. "Do not mistake my charity for anything else, Potter." The blond spat the name, curling his lips in distaste as it left his mouth.

"You got lucky I even considered sparing you a second of my time. If not for me, you would still be desperately tangled in either Dumbledore's web or the Dark Lord's. So now, the only thing you're going to do is be a good little soldier and do as you're told. Following orders does not require much thought – you should feel right at home with that position." Draco took another step forward, almost tempted to push the other boy. It wouldn't be the first time they had resorted to physical blows and it seemed like the lion cub had forgotten the taste of the whip.

However, the Malfoy heir considered dealing the first hit a weakness. Brawls were for brutes that couldn't make use of the power that spoken word had. The blond was on another level entirely. "Now, you be grateful for my tolerance of your poor manners and foolishness and start learning to play the part you're given and be happy. I'm getting tired of your temper and I might have to take some measures to amend that. I won't allow you to ruin an entire year of work on my part, because it's that time of the month for you." The last sentence came out as a snarl. "Now you will tell me exactly what happened at that meeting. Do you understand?" He spoke as one would to a five year old child smirk in place and a questioning raise of one of his eyebrows. "Or should I repeat so you can take notes?" Turning your back to a defeated opponent was what one did in fencing, acknowledging the fact the other was no longer a threat, and that was what the blond made to do.

One breath and two steps later, Harry's left hand was tightly clenched in Draco's collar, forcefully pulling the blond back, effectively stopping any progress the other might have wished to make.

The raven-head felt the air leave his chest as Draco's back hit him with more force than he would have originally predicted, he quickly hid it beneath a small growl, swiftly closing his other hand around the Slytherin's neck, feeling his pulse and keeping him in place. The Gryffindor tightened his grip a little, applying pressure with one hand while yanking back with the other until Draco was perfectly settled in a position in which he could easily whisper in his ear without the slightest bit of effort … except holding him in place.

"Never turn your back at me again, viper, or I promise you, it will be the last thing you ever do." Harry breathed harshly against the other's ear, his words heavy, filled with barely concealed anger.

Draco's pulse quickened and for a second he caught himself holding a breath. He had not expected Harry to move, even less … to try and touch him. And if he went by the hand around his throat, Potter was beyond trying already. On instinct his own hand snaked upwards and his fingers closed tightly around the other's wrist, not pulling it away, but there to remove it immediately if Harry tried to put more pressure in his hold.

"Thread carefully Slytherin for you know very little … about me and about what I have been up to these past few months, about the things I've seen and about the things I've done. Most of them would make you cower and cry just like the little boy you are, most of them would give you nightmares for weeks.", the dark haired boy snarled, his left hand moving from the collar to close around Draco's chest, pulling the other closer to himself, flush against his chest.

Harry's breath on the back of the blond's neck and in his ear, sent an involuntary shiver through his entire body and in their current position there was no doubt the Gryffindor had felt it as well. Draco's grip on the other's wrist got tighter and he cursed under his breath. „How dare you!" The hiss came from deep within his chest. "Let go of me!" The order seemed to fall on deaf ears, as another puff of warm breath connected with Draco's skin. The difference between that and the cold air in the room was too big for his body not to react yet again and he covered it up with a low growl and an attempt to pull free from the arms that were holding him against the other's chest.

"I am no one's toy, no one's soldier, no one's play-thing! Not Dumbledore's, not Voldermort's and most certainly not yours Draco! If you want to play the little spoiled prince, if you want to command and order someone around, then go to your little snake friends, to your Crab and your Goyle, but do not come to me with this attitude, boy. I am not one of your little followers - your money and title mean nothing to me, you are the heir of nothing as far as I am concerned." Harry stopped only for a moment, just for a second, to move his head back and smell Draco's hair, before he caught himself doing it. Surprised and angered by his own momentary slip, he closed his hand tighter around the other's air way and pulled him closer to his chest. A cough tore from Draco's lungs, but the Gryffindor paid it no mind.

"You will stop this little plot of yours and you will stop treating me and talking to me as if to a dog or I promise you Draco, I will show you just how long, sharp and bloody my fangs and claws have grown… I will tell you nothing."

Harry released the Slytherin then, pushing him away all the while taking a few steps back himself, trying to catch his breath and to compose himself before Draco would turn around to face him once more.

The blond stumbled slightly forward, the sudden release and the following push coming unexpectedly. He was quick to catch his balance however, and straighten up his pose. His palms and fingers ran over the front of his robe, to smooth the wrinkles the imbecile had created with all of his caveman pushing and pulling. While he was fixing his collar and smoothing the strands of his hair that had fallen out of place he was also taking the time to reign over his emotions. It wouldn't do to turn around and rip Potter to pieces.

As intolerable as the dark haired wizard's manners were, he was still a valuable asset and Draco wouldn't be losing him over an inability to control his own rage. Once satisfied with both his appearance and the level of his self control he turned around slowly, the edge of his robe dragging behind him on the floor. Harry was standing a few steps away looking at him coldly. He was waiting to see what Draco would do and how he would react to his previous words and behavior. He wouldn't be waiting long.

The blond took the couple of steps separating them, smiling something that could be classified as a sweet smile. Once he was as close as 40 centimeters from Harry his left hand rose slowly and in an unthreatening fashion. When he reached the Gryffindor's collar he smoothed the wrinkles there, just like he had done seconds ago to his own clothes and once he was satisfied with its smoothness his fingers curled into a fist, grasping the material tightly.

Harry only had a moment, a moment to look at Draco, to wonder at the blonde's sudden change in behavior, at the strange … almost-affectionate portrait he was displaying; a moment to look into grey eyes, trying to convey his wondering and surprise through his own.

A fleeting thought ghosted against his shoulder in passing – how nice of a feeling this was, even thought he clearly recognized it as merely the calm before the storm, Harry found himself lowering his gaze slowly towards Draco's hand, the place where it rested against the white of his shirt, almost the same in color.

In the next second, Draco abruptly yanked the other wizard closer and drew out his wand, pressing the tip under Harry's chin. "You are to never speak to me like that, ever again." His voice was even and quite, yet sounded cold next to the threatening manner in which Harry had spoken previously. "I have no idea what you have or have not witnessed, or where you think your place is, but, whatever the case, the last couple of months have done you a great disservice. You have lost the little manners you once possessed and you seem to have degraded to another Era entirely."

The wood pressed harder into Harry's skin and Draco pulled at his robes again, as if to emphasize his point. "You're playing on a higher level now and you would be dead without me after the very first move you might try to make. Or should I remind you that you would have probably already been dead? I don't think that is necessary. We shouldn't dwell on the past."

The young Gryffindor couldn't help the downright devious smile that crept upon his lips at hearing Draco's words. Such a silly child this one was in his eyes, such a young, spoiled, full of himself boy. He knew nothing of life, nothing of power or addiction, yet here he was preaching them all – accusing Harry of brutality, while man-handling him in precisely the same manner.

The raven head felt his smile grow larger and his amusement deeper as he decided to let this play out, see just what exactly the other would do, how far he would go …

With one final push of his wand into the Harry's chin Draco took a step back, pulling his wand-hand down to rest on the opposite side of the collar. The fingers of his other hand unclenched slowly and smoothed down the wrinkles he had this time caused himself. The hand that was still holding his wand moved to the back of Harry's neck and pulled sharply, until the raven-head's ear was right at his lips. Then he whispered. "Do not forget. I would equally enjoy both seeing you fall and seeing you rise. And I can make both happen. It's up to you, if you will play the few cards you have right."

The blond pulled away and the smirk that had disappeared for his little speech was back on his lips. It was a sign of superiority and the Slytherin was rather proud of the expression he always managed to display. "This is the moment you get to the point and talk. For someone, who claims to have a busy schedule, you've certainly held us back here for quite longer than I could have expected. If you're not careful, with all of those displays, I might start thinking you crave my company and closeness," Draco mocked and a huff left his lips.

"Oh, but I do enjoy it Draco … I crave it, I live for it. Whoever dared tell you different? Tell me and I shall readily make good work of them …" Harry started with a small chuckle, his tone of voice hiding none of the amusement he was feeling.

He moved closer to the Slytherin, smiling pleasantly while placing his hand on the other's shoulder and giving it an affectionate, friendly squeeze. He let out a small sigh, letting his eyes close for a second, clearing his head, before fixing his gaze on the other boy's cold, grey pools.

"You would see me rise, viper," Harry began in a patronizing manner, as if he was the teacher while Draco played the student, suddenly feeling so much older than the boy. "I know this and I know you, so don't you even try denying it. I'm well acquainted with all of your schemes, plans and ambitions, I had plenty of time to both read and learn them by heart – I know where your venomous soul lies, so do not mistake yourself a threat to my wellbeing. That will only lead you down a road of disappointment."

Draco sighed in frustration. Nothing was reaching Harry tonight. Granted he hadn't chosen one of the less obtrusive ways to get to the raven-head, yet he couldn't help blaming that unknown, threatening meeting with the Headmaster for the way Harry was behaving. He had never been one to simply follow and the blond usually was forced to make use of his best tactics to lure him into a sense of security. No luring was happening tonight. Draco was cold, hence impatient and snappy, and his fear for the future of his plans and his own Dark Lord in the making was pushing him towards irrational. The Gryffindor seemed to be in a less-than-patient mood himself and the meeting was swaying between disastrous and pointless. If he didn't get things under control soon, Draco himself would be the reason for the ruining of his schemes. And the dreaded Gryffindor was in his face yet again!

Harry moved closer still, invading the blonde's personal space, right until he was standing right in front of him, only a breath apart, the hand resting on the other's shoulder never abandoning its place, quite the opposite.

The raven haired boy felt his own fingers starting to move, more or less of their own accord, up and down the Slytherin's neck, softly caressing the skin they found there, sometimes daring to go as high as the soft strands of hair and momentarily entangling themselves in them before resuming their previous path.

"You however, are completely in the dark", he continued, his eyes loosing some of their previous warmth, his demeanor changing towards more serious matters. "… in regards to my own plans, my own schemes, my own plots and ambitions. You know nothing of them, you know nothing of the place where my soul and desires lay … and that Draco is weakness."

The blonde's teeth clenched and his gaze hardened. His hands were fisted on his sides, yet for some reason he made no move to push the obtrusive wizarding savior away. "Plans of a child, unaware of the rules of the game he so desires to play. You're naive, little Harry. You have merely just woken up, just opened your eyes to what has been around you always and you're already rushing to take part in something you do not understand. Yet you dare talk to me about weakness? Even only your behavior tonight shows how long the road ahead of you is and how much further you'll have to go before you can be considered an opponent worth anyone's time."

Harry tilted his head a little, looking at Draco's face sideways, studying him, observing him, as if trying to decide upon something, as if trying to make up his mind in either one way or the other. It lasted a few seconds before his eyes cleared of all uncertainty, his plan of action decided, if at least in part … with the serpent demon, he could never plan too far ahead after all, it was just … useless.

A breath later Draco was spun around sharply, both his wrists securely and tightly held in Harry's hand and his back strongly pressed against the wall. The blond's wand fell to the ground, clattering loudly against the stone but neither boy seemed to notice. The raven head made sure to lift his right hand from it's place - grazing the neck, to the back of the Slytherin's head, trying to ensure he did not give Draco a concussion by accidentally bumping the boy's head against the wall too hard – he wanted the Slytherin to suffer, true, he didn't wanted him to be unconscious however. A gasp escaped Draco's lips, the sudden movement taking him off guard. His back hit the cold stones hard and the air was forcefully pushed out of his lungs. He winced and tried to push the brunette away, but he seemed to have other plans in mind.

Harry pushed his body further, using his weight, until they were both perfectly molded together, as if they made a single body, not a breath in between them – or more like, Draco was tightly and probably not very comfortably fitted between him and the cold wall.

The Gryffindor let his head move to the side, running his lips along the other's skin, not kissing and not fully touching, but more like fluttering over from time to time.

The closeness of the other's body, the breath and lips on Draco's neck, were sending shivers down his spine, which seemed to be building in intensity with every movement Harry made. His body was almost trembling, prickling sensation crawling all over his skin and pushing the little soft hairs to stand. Draco was not enjoying this. It was ridiculous! Such behavior was intolerable! …on both parts.

Harry's shy, unsure, almost questioning moves slowly turned more brazen and decided as he placed a small kiss on the Slytherin's cheek before moving to whisper in the blonde's ear.

"But if you want me to be your champion so badly Draco, then I believe first you need to learn to be my maiden", he added, emphasizing his point with a touch of lips on the other's ear rim. "… and speaking of learning. You need to start listening as well boy," Harry added with a chuckle, moving his lips to the blonde's own, softly speaking against them: "Now what did I tell you just now? What did I warn you not to do and what did I tell you would happen if you did?" he rhetorically asked before touching the boy's lips with his own. Not a kiss, just a soft fleeting touch before pulling back a little, as to allow a response, if any was to come.

For a moment Draco couldn't move or think at all. This was not happening. What in Salazar's name was the bloody idiot thinking? He was not thinking…that was what this was. How dare he? How dare he bloody… an almost roar tore from his chest as he pushed against the other. Draco was wriggling his wrists in the brunette's hands, trying to free himself from his grasp, only to find that Harry seemed to be stronger than him. His rage was blinding him and he couldn't focus his strength or control the pressure in his muscles properly.

Harry was breathing harshly, his chest heaving and constricting painfully with each new intake of air. He had expected the Slytherin to portray a strong reaction to his behavior, but still, this display of desperation and anger had come as a rather unexpected surprise, taking him somewhat off guard – the snake wasn't a snake at all, but more of a wild stallion; and Draco wasn't a frail, spoilt, rich boy, but more of an equal match.

The Malfoy heir pushed again, putting into it all of the strength he could muster in his current position. For a split second his back left the wall only to connect with it painfully once again, when his muscles caved under the effort and Harry's weight pushed him backwards. Pain shot through his back and, and he figured physical effort was pointless.

The raven head let himself rest even heavier on the other's body, clenching the boy's wrists tighter with one hand and pulling harshly on the pale strands with the other, securing both hands and head in a firmer grasp. He knew this was probably hurting the almost exhausted blonde beneath him even more, but Harry would much rather have himself a bruised and pained Draco than a free one.

Things had already gotten out of hand and what had probably been less than a minute already seemed to him like an eternity of fighting to keep his hold over the other boy – he was tired, he suspected almost as tired as the buck beneath him, but he would be damned before he let him go, no matter how much strain he had to put on himself. Releasing Draco now would have much more disastrous consequences than holding him still. They both had started this and Harry would make sure they both saw it through.

"Get away from me, Potter! Release me right this instant, or I swear to you…" Draco shouted, still making half-hearted attempts to push the other away from him. "How dare you? You're dead! I will bloody kill you. Get your hands off of me!" The realization that he was at Potter mercy wasn't a pleasant one. And he wasn't about to admit it any time soon. Draco was the one in control. Always! "Remove yourself or you'll get hurt!" His teeth were clenched and the words were barely making it through the barrier. The Gryffindor was inches away yet he couldn't do a single thing! A sudden desire to lounge himself forward and bite Harry threatened to take over, but instead of succumbing to it he bit hard on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. He wasn't an animal and even in this situation he wouldn't lower himself to act like one.

"I'm warning you, boy!" His voice rose threatening and rang through the empty classroom. The air had gotten a certain electrical charge to it, Draco's magic running high with his emotions and trying to break loose. The blond's muscles contracted in a final effort and as he was summoning his strength and putting it into the push a burst of magic tore free and out of his control. Instead of hitting Harry however, the wild energy connected with one of the nearby chairs and sent it flying into the wall across. As he felt some of his energy draining, a roar that was bordering desperate tore from Draco's chest, but he still managed to glare at Harry. "!"

"No, I won't. So do good and stop demanding it…" Harry spoke in an even, cold and final voice, though a distant ghost of tiredness could be felt in his tone, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

He let his forehead rest on Draco's own, listening to the other boy's heart, feeling it beat wildly in his chest, the fluttering wings of a caged bird attempting to break free. Or was it his own? … he could not tell. His heart or Draco's - which one was beating louder than the other? Which was he hearing? His? The boy's? Both?

He let a small chuckle escape his lips at the realization he could not tell them apart no matter how much he tried, which, to him, was strangely ironic in more ways than one. "Now, calm down and be quiet little horse. Or do you want us to get caught?" he continued in a softer manner, his voice almost … sweet, deeply contrasting with the position they were in. "This is not a very flattering situation you find yourself in now, is it? We wouldn't want someone to accidentally walk in and see you like this - pinned against a wall by a Gryffindor, by Harry Potter, no less, your worst enemy.", he emphasized the last word with a devious smile. "And all because you can't control yourself …" he finished with a small sight.

Draco glared at him, trying to convey all of the frustration and hatred he was currently feeling. "I will get you for this, Potter. Mark my words…" In a sudden movement he moved his head to the side, so that Harry could no longer lean on him, and directed his gaze towards the door. If someone did enter… no it was impossible. It was late and Draco had chosen this room for their usual meeting place for a reason – no one ever came here. The bloody Gryffindor was so full of it! If he could only…

The raven haired boy shifted a bit, repositioning his body until able to force his left leg in between Draco's own, applying more pressure on the lower parts of both their bodies, trying to better incapacitate the other boy. He barely stopped himself from laughing as he let his face and lips drift to the boy's side, trying to hide the deep satisfaction on what he had, almost unwillingly and unknowingly, accomplished – every movement the boy would now make, every one of his attempts to break free would now end up with an entirely new set of consequences… for both of them.

He kissed Draco softly just above the collar of his soft, expensive shirt only to move higher a second later, and kiss him right beneath his ear, almost trying to provoke him to start trashing again, wondering if the Slytherin even realized what would happen if he did and quietly congratulating himself on his … ingenuity.

And indeed the "trap" was perfectly set, for while Draco's senses had registered the change of the position of the body pressed so closely to his, his mind had still to catch up, too focused on the various devious ploys of how you can kill someone at a boarding school and present it like an accident. When the blond felt the lips on his skin his head snapped back so he could face the other boy yet again and he lounged himself forward, or tried to, in an attempt to push Harry away.

As he did that his body inadvertently pushed more into the other's which created a sudden friction at the point where the upper part of their hips connected. The sensation immediately halted Draco's movement and his muscles went lax, as if a puppet cut from its strings, and instead of pushing forward his body tried to fall backwards. There was however no room to get away from Harry and the two were still pressed together.

Despite the quick retreat a pleasant heat spread over the blonde's skin, radiating off of him. It was then that he realized his chest was heaving, his lungs trying their best to give his body the air it seemed to desperately need. The blood pumped deafening in his ears, rushing to fill up and expand every channel in his body, increasing the intensity of every sensation.

At that point, the raven head dared move a little further, to the blonde's lips. Still hesitant and unsure about kissing him full on, Harry decided to place a small peck in the corner of the Slytherin's mouth, and then another one, slightly deeper, and another one – pulling on the boy's lower lip.

"You know something Draco," Harry shifted his head to the other's ear once more, giving it small kisses in between his words. "Over the past year, I have come to know you well enough to say that there are only two things in this world that could have ripped such a powerful reaction from your vile soul – utter disgust or utter enjoyment. And you hate me so much and with such strength that only something … nice could render you so desperate and so utterly scared …"

The gust of air from Harry's breath on his already heated skin and the lips on his ear were torturous. Hate was a familiar feeling for Draco. And what he hated most was a right Harry Potter. His eyes had closed on their own accord and one of his attempts to exhale came out louder through his lips, the sound similar to a sigh. That snapped Malfoy out of it, his eyes flew open and his teeth latched unforgiving on his lower lip, bringing the blood to the surface, but still without breaking the tender skin…

Harry felt his neck constrict, as if trying to swallow, even though there was nothing there. He took a deep, steadying breath of air, letting his eyes close. It was almost painful – the breath that left his chest a moment later, it almost tore him apart – who could have known that such sweet sounds could escape the Slytherin's mouth, who could have guessed that the smallest of sighs could have such a devastating effect on him?

He let his eyelashes flutter fast over his eyes, trying to clear his head, trying to get a hold of himself – the Gryffindor had been lucky. Lucky Draco didn't make any attempt to break free at that exact moment, for, as distracted as Harry was, he would have surely lost him.

The Gryffindor paused his actions for a second, torn between making a sharky comment about the moan that had just escaped the blonde's lips and in between honestly complimenting the boy. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself however, for voicing them would surely ruin it – there was no way the snake would take anything he said as something more than an insult.

The hands which Harry still held pressed to the wall above his head closed into tight fists. Draco would not give him the satisfaction of hearing anything else leave his lips. The humiliation he suddenly felt, forced to admit that in the current position he found himself in he was completely under Potter's control for the Gryffindor to do as he pleased, colored his cheeks. He couldn't do a single thing without his own body embarrassing him further.

Trying to keep a final shred of dignity the Slytherin resorted to words, responding to the previous, pretty much accurate hit in the dark of Harry's. "You wish, Potter! The only thing I feel standing that close to you is utter disgust, not enjoyment. If I have to stay one more second in your intolerable presence I fear I might be sick." His words held little of their usual venom and sounded half-hearted even to his own ears.

The Gryffindor decided to comment nothing, to say nothing, to acknowledge nothing of what the other boy said. He had told Draco that he had grown immune to his venom and it was true, but sometimes, just sometimes it still stung. Or perhaps it was just the close proximity of their bodies, the reason they seemed to go deeper than usual, closer to home. Or perhaps it was the simple fact that the Slytherin was doing good at ruining his special moment – such bitter words should not follow such a sweet sound, even if slightly hollow. Even if his eyes hardened with the touch of a glare, the boy let nothing else show.

Desperation was not a pretty state of being and Draco wasn't handling it well. Especially when a small part of him – a part that seemed to be growing more insistent with every second he spent close to the other boy, feeling Harry's breaths leaving the strong chest to land on his skin – wanted to push into the Gryffindor again, with more force even, just to feel the sensation of the delicious friction again. The rustling of the fabric of their clothes teased his ears and Draco realized he would lose any form of control over himself he might have had, if he didn't find a way out of this situation fast. He had to get away, otherwise…

His muscles however, seemed to be refusing to cooperate. And even if his body did move on his commands the only thing he could achieve was what he was trying to escape from. He was trapped. For the first time he could remember he felt utterly helpless and couldn't think of a single thing to do to change the situation in his favor. He was….defeated. "I hate you," he informed Potter, making sure the words carried every nuance of the emotion they were stating with them.

Harry knew the truth then, even if Draco didn't … Those three words had been the sound of his victory, the sound of the Slytherin's surrender, and he would be damned if by the end of the night he wouldn't have the boy screaming his name until his throat would be bloody, coarse and unable to produce a single syllable. He would have Malfoy scream for him in that sinful voice, in every possible way.

With a new determination, the Gryffindor swiftly moved back a little, enough for him to roughly push Draco's leg from between his own further to the side, enough for him to be able to step in between the boy's legs, pressing their bodies flush, slowly grinding his hips against the Slytherin.

If the blond had though that Harry was pulling away and would be letting him go, satisfied with his small victory, he would have been wrong. Actually, the slight shift in position had their bodies pressed even closer together, if that was even at all possible. Draco Malfoy had Harry Potter in a position he would have never imagined having him – a position he never imagined having anyone actually. He had him between his legs and if that was not enough, what was the most horrifying part of it all was that he could no longer muster the energy to mind.

Harry's left hand relinquished the hold he had on the blonde's hair and quickly got rid of the tie gracing the boy's neck. He pulled the first three buttons open, pulling on Draco's shirt with more than a little despair and impatience, almost ripping the delicate, expensive fabric under his fingers. The Malfoy heir always wore the finest of things after all.

In a frantic rush, just as soon as enough skin was uncovered, the raven head's hand moved to close over the blonde's mouth, forcing his head to one side and exposing the long column of his neck. He closed his mouth over the flesh, biting the base of his neck hard, putting all his frustration, anger and need into that one gesture, claiming the heir as his own, whether he liked it or not. The harsh marking tore a moan from deep within Draco's chest which thankfully the other boy's hand muffled somewhat. There was no denying however, of the nature of the sound that had left his lips and as much as he would hate to admit it, the blond Slytherin wouldn't have been able to stop it even if he had tried. Tension started building up in the lower part of his body and all of the blood that had been rushing to his head previously was currently headed the opposite way. Wizard robes were usually good at hiding an arousal. Unfortunately that ability of theirs didn't work when you were pressed to somebody else.

Harry's mouth moved upwards then, right until under the boy's ear and then all the way back towards the boy's jaw, still placing small bites in places, even if not as harsh as the one before.

"Say it again Malfoy!" he ordered, turning the boy's head back to face him and speaking against his own hand. "Tell me how you hate me.", he continued, his voice breathy and husky, more heavy with desire than he would have liked to give on. Harry took his hand away, gently brushing a few of Draco's strands away from his face.

The Slytherin followed the suddenly gentle fingers with his peripheral vision, before meeting Harry's eyes. The Gryffindor's gaze seemed to be darker, clouded by his want. Draco took in the hair – in desperate need of a comb as per usual, the high cheekbones, the strong jaw, yet with a defiant line, the broad shoulders… He couldn't get out. He didn't want to get out.

It was simple. It was like in the games of poker, either you were in, betting everything on a single move and on chance, or you were out. Draco didn't have the later option. The only thing he could do was play. He would obliviate himself. If he didn't remember, it didn't happen. Better yet – he would obliviate Harry. Yes. He was not proficient enough with the spell yet to risk his own mental state, but with Potter the difference wouldn't be noticeable.

Decision made, Draco finally relaxed his muscles. He let his body slide just a bit down the wall – as much as Harry's proximity and his still tightly clasped wrists above his head would allow. It was just enough for him to get better leverage though, and for his legs to move to the side of the raven-head's. The insides of his thighs were pressed to Harry's legs and the Slytherin met his gaze with certainty.

The gray eyes were no longer glaring, but instead were carrying the heat that was radiating from Draco's entire body. "I hate you," he answered as commanded, voice low. "…with a passion." He wanted him. The blonde's hips bucked upwards with those words and his lips claimed Harry's, teeth replacing them to bite a bit harsher on the tender flesh.

To be continued …

**A word from the authors:**

**A warning to flamers all around: We have mighty hungry piranhas and we are not afraid to use them! You should have read the warnings! If you are disgusted and will now have nightmares, there is no one to blame but yourself!**


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